My Love
by Sakurras
Summary: Scabior and Hermione One-Shot!


**This is my first Hermione/Scabior one-shot, so if it gets some good reviews I might make another one. I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING! ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO JK ROWLING!**

My Love

Scabior looked over at the young woman in his bed. Her back was to him, and the even rise and fall of her sides showed that she was asleep. The blankets covered up to the middle of her back, revealing that she wore no clothes. Her brown, unruly hair was fanned out across the pillow.

He smiled and walked over to her. He sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake her, and gently pulled the covers up so her whole body was covered and she wouldn't get cold. Even though the tent was closed and a small heater was in the middle of the tent, the occasional winter breeze blew in.

She smiled in her sleep and snuggled under the blankets. Their love-making from the previous night had worn her out. He gently stroked her cheek. He would have to leave her soon, to go to work, but he would return as soon as he could. He could still remember when he caught her.

_She was held back by one of his fellow snatchers. She put on a brave face, but he could still see her fear in her eyes. The winter breeze blew her hair, gently and he walked over to her. He smirked as he watched the red-head struggle to get to her, then be pinned down._

"_Hello, Beau'iful. Who are you?" He said, picking up a piece of her hair and bringing it to his face. The scent of vanilla and honeysuckle filled his nose. _

"_Penelope Clearwater." She said, her voice wavering slightly._

"_Nope. No, Penelope Clearwater." One of his fellow teammates said, looking at a small black book._

_He walked over the boy with the messed up face. He looked at him for a moment, trying to recognize any facial features. A thought popped into his head, and he took his wand and moved away some of the boy's hair. There, against the boy's forehead, rested the famous lightning bolt. He grinned._

"_The two need to be taken to Malfoy Manor instead of the Ministry. This is Harry Potter." He said standing up._

"_What about her, boss?" the one holding Hermione asked._

"_She comes with me." He said and he saw Hermione tremble as he approached her. _

_He took her into his arms and apparated them to the campsite. She fought against him as he led her into his tent. He pulled her over to his bed and laid her down. He got on top of her and straddled her. She trembled underneath him, and her eyes were wide with fear. He gently ran his fingertips down her cheek._

"_P-please don't hurt me." She said, her voice so low it was almost like a whisper._

"_Shh don' worry Beau'iful. As long as you obey me and refrain from running away, I'll keep you safe. She nodded softly, and he smiled_

That had been a month ago. Things were different now. She no longer wanted to leave him, and she willingly shared the same bed with him. Her behavior had changed over the course of time, and before he knew it, she had fallen in love with him. He loved her, as well, and kept her from harm. He would not allow her to be harmed in any way.

She stirred, and he removed his hand from her cheek. He smiled as she rolled over and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. She smiled softly, and he leaned down and gently gave her a "good morning" kiss.

"Good morning, Scabior."

"Morning, Beau'iful." He said, looking into her chocolate-brown eyes. She blushed softly.

"Boss, we gotta go!" Fenrir hollered from outside of the tent.

"I have to go. I'll be back later, Darling." He said and she smiled and nodded.

"Be careful." She said and gently kissed him.

He stood up and left the tent. His men were out there, waiting. He nodded and they started walking through the woods. He placed a Protection Charm around the campsite, then followed them. He used to be excited about catching Mudbloods, but now he just wanted to get the job over with, so that he could return to the beauty in his tent. He smirked to himself. That girl truly had changed him.


End file.
